The First Church

by Ron Ripley

  Luke smiled. “No, my dear boy, by the one we entered.”

  Shane looked over to Brian and asked, “Are you ready?”

  The man nodded and the two of them went into the fallout shelter.

  Brian looked around, let out a surprised laugh and took an item off one of the shelves.

  “What?” Shane asked, glancing over at Brian.

  “Here, catch,” Brian said, and he tossed the item to Shane, who caught it easily.

  It was a pair of brass knuckles, except they were made out of what looked and felt like iron. They had sharpened points hammered into the metal. “What the hell were these used for?”

  “Trench warfare,” Brian answered. “Looks like they’re made out of iron though. Keep ‘em. They’ll come in handy.”

  “How do you figure?” Shane asked. “You can’t actually punch a ghost.”

  “You can with iron,” Brian said. He held up his right hand and wiggled the index finger. There was a wide iron ring on it. “Trust me. Just put them on.”

  Shane shrugged, slid the iron knuckle-dusters on over his glove, and turned his attention to the skulls.

  Chapter 58: The Contest Begins

  Luke could hear the fearful, labored breath of James. The heavy, nervous tread of Shane and Brian as they entered the fallout shelter.

  Luke stood in his darkness and held onto the bottle of whiskey. He shifted his grip, conscious of the sweat on his palms.

  “There,” Shane said.

  And suddenly a horrific scream erupted.

  The two men yelled in surprise and anger. Shane yelled out in Japanese, and it was answered in kind, and furiously. With a deep breath, Luke added his own, raised voice to the cacophony.

  “I am Lieutenant Luke James Allen,” he said, pitching his voice deeply, the words slamming into the concrete walls. “I bring a gift to the men of Imperial Japan.”

  A coldness wrapped around Luke, and he knew they were there.

  The dead surrounded him, pressed close.

  Cold fingers touched his eyes, traced the scars they found.

  “Marine,” one of the dead said. “War.”

  Luke could only nod and hold up the bottle of whiskey.

  The hands fell away from his eyes and Luke breathed a small sigh of relief.

  Luke uncorked the bottle of whiskey, took a good, long drink from it, then he wiped the bottle’s lip with his sleeve. His hands shook as he held it in front of him. A moment later, a chill swept over him and someone took the bottle from him.

  One of the two ghosts laughed and said, “Whiskey.”

  The other replied in Japanese. There was a pause and then Luke felt the bottle being pressed back into his hands.

  “Thank you,” he said, and took another drink before holding it out once more.

  As the bottle was taken from him a second time, Luke faintly heard Brian speak to Shane.

  A single, sharp word was spoken. A second voice snapped a reply Luke could not understand, and then a terrible, icy grip took hold of his heart and squeezed.

  Chapter 59: Jim Sees Too Much

  After his grandfather had yelled out his own name, Jim saw two ghosts appear. They stood on either side of his grandfather, and they reached up and touched his face.

  Jim watched, unable to look away as they examined his eyes and spoke to one another softly. He caught the word ‘Marine,’ but nothing else.

  Jim watched as his grandfather opened the whiskey, took a drink of it and held it out. The first ghost took it, drank, and then the second did the same before he gave it to his grandfather again. Once more, his grandfather drank, and then the first Japanese ghost took the bottle of whiskey again.

  From the hidden room, Jim heard Brian speak to Shane. One of the Japanese soldier’s spoke and the other replied angrily.

  The first soldier thrust his hands into his grandfather’s chest.

  His grandfather gasped, collapsed to his knees and fell slowly to the left. The entire time the ghost kept his hands in his grandfather’s chest. He sank down to the floor and never looked away. Something rattled loudly as his grandfather breathed, and then he stopped.

  His grandfather lay still on the cement floor as the ghost withdrew his hands and bowed.

  The ghost with the whiskey uncapped it, brought the mouth of the bottle to his nose and seemed to smell it.

  Brian and Shane hurried out of the room, each with a skull.

  The dead turned to face them, but it was too late.

  The skulls were dropped into the open box unceremoniously, and the lid slammed closed. The ghosts disappeared, and the bottle crashed to the floor. It shattered and glass shards and drops of whiskey struck Jim, who stood silently by the door.

  “Oh, damn,” Brian said, hurrying to Jim’s grandfather.

  Shane locked the box and stepped away as it rattled on the floor. Screams of rage, which sounded like nothing more than the plaintive wails of kittens, slipped free of the confines of the chest.

  “He’s dead,” Jim said. He looked from Shane to Brian. “My grandfather’s dead.”

  Brian nodded.

  Jim looked at his grandfather for a long moment.

  A sudden, sharp pain exploded in his chest and he let out a long, terrible cry. Tears spilled from his eyes and his body was wracked with sobs. For several long, agonized minutes he fought to control himself, and finally, he did. He snuffled back the tears, took a deep breath and said hoarsely, “We still have four more to catch.”

  “Yes,” Shane agreed softly, looking away. “Yes, we do.”

  “We can put your grandfather in my car,” Brian said, clearing his throat uncomfortably and standing up.

  Jim shook his head. “No, we can’t. We have to get to the Church. We can come back for my grandfather’s body. But we can’t wait. We have to stop them before anyone else gets hurt.”

  Jim walked to his grandfather, to the man who had been everything, and dropped to a knee. He leaned forward, kissed the furrowed brow, and held back more tears. I’ll cry when they’re all in the box, Jim told himself. I’ll cry then.

  Chapter 60: The Church

  The three of them entered the Church together through the broken back door.

  Leo stood in the late Reverend’s office.

  “Is he here?” Brian asked.

  “Yes,” Leo said. “Miles Cunningham is in the basement. By the furnace.”

  “Creature of habit,” Shane murmured, and Brian nodded his agreement. Jim walked to the desk and straightened up spilled pencils and pens.

  “Does he have the fourth skull?” Brian asked, afraid the answer would be ‘no.’

  “He does,” Leo said.

  The box shook in his grip, and Brian glanced at Shane.

  “These gentlemen are not happy,” Shane said.

  “Why would they be?” Leo asked, confused. “You have locked them in a box.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Leo,” Brian said. “Lead on to the furnace, please.”

  Leo nodded, turned and walked through the door.

  Brian sighed, but Jim slipped in front and opened it for them.

  “Thanks, kid,” Brian said.

  Jim nodded and followed them as they caught sight of Leo by another door. This one was not closed, but it had a large ‘X’ made of yellow police tape over it.

  Shane knocked it aside and started down the stairs.

  The lights were on, and when they reached the basement, they found Miles Cunningham.

  He stood at the far end of the room by a door marked ‘Furnace.’

  He was a small man. Smaller than Leo had been in life. He was slim as well, and he looked completely and utterly mad. The clothes he wore were old and disheveled. His expression was a mixture of shock and outrage.

  “Hi, Miles!” Shane said cheerfully.

  Miles blinked and looked confused.

  “Do I know you?” he asked.

  “Nope!” Shane said. “Where are the skulls?”

  “What skulls?” Mile
s asked sulkily. He took a step to the left, and his eyes flickered towards the stairs.

  “No,” Shane said. “No, no, no. You can’t leave. We need the skulls first. Then you can leave.”

  Before Miles could answer Leo appeared from the room. “They are here. In a spot beneath a duct. The men are very upset. I do not believe I can keep them back for long.”

  Miles looked surprised. “You are real!”

  “I am,” Leo said, and then he vanished again.

  “Wait,” Miles said, turning back to Brian and Shane. “What are you going to do?”

  “We’re going to take the skulls,” Brian said, nodding to Shane. Together they set the box down. “We’re going to take them someplace nice.”

  “No,” Miles said, shaking his head. “No. This is someplace nice. You can’t take them anywhere else. I won’t let you.”

  “We’re not asking you,” Shane said, and he walked towards the furnace room.

  Brian followed.

  Miles took a step towards them and suddenly Jim was there.

  The teenager was a blur as he slammed into Miles’ back and knocked him down.

  “Quickly!” Leo yelled from the other room.

  Brian glanced at Jim to see if the boy needed help, but Miles was on the floor with Jim on top of him. The teenager was pure rage, driving Miles’ head repeatedly into the floor.

  “Brian,” Shane said, wrenching the door to the furnace room open, “he can hold his own for a minute. We need the skulls.”

  Reluctantly, Brian followed Shane. Screams filled the small space, and Brian felt as though he had walked through a physical barrier of sound. Shane got to the duct first, reached up and found a loose cinderblock.

  He threw it aside and revealed a small cavity, in which four skulls sat. Without any sort of grace, Shane reached in, grabbed two and tossed them to Brian, who caught them easily. The noise pounded at his head as he staggered out of the room and towards the box. He fell to his knees, vomited from the constant barrage of sound and waited in his own bile for Shane to join him.

  Shane did so a moment later. He dropped the skulls to the floor where they rolled across the parquet and stopped against the box. He fumbled for the key, found it, unlocked the chest and fell back as the two ghosts within, barreled out.

  The dead rushed at Brian and Shane.

  Shane screamed out something in Japanese which caused the ghosts to pause for a heartbeat, but it was enough for Brian to get to his feet.

  One of the dead men turned on him, snarling, and Brian shouted as he slammed his right hand into the ghost’s head. When the iron ring connected with the dead man, he vanished.

  “The skulls!” Brian called out. “Get them into the box, Shane!”

  Shane climbed to his hands and knees. As he reached for a skull, one of the other Japanese soldiers tried to stop him and Brian stepped between them. The dead man grabbed Brian’s left arm, the grip painfully cold. Stars burst in front of Brian’s eyes and for a brief moment he was afraid of another heart attack.

  Yet, instead of collapsing, Brian thrust his right hand into the ghost’s belly. The dead man vanished.

  Before Brian could relish the small victory, the other four men swarmed around him. A cold, hard force pierced his shoulder while something hard slammed into the side of his head. Brian stumbled, tripped over Shane and fell onto his back.

  He swung wildly, missed a Japanese soldier and tried to get himself back on his feet.

  Shane let out a shriek of pain as one of the dead thrust a hand into his thigh and squeezed. With his face red with agony Shane managed to punch the ghost in the side of his head with the iron knuckle-dusters, the dead man vanished with a howl.

  Brian started to push himself up and received a kick in the head for it. The world went black and he felt a tooth pop out of its socket. Blood rushed into his mouth and he gagged on it.

  When his vision cleared, he found himself on his side, lying in his own filth again. What he saw, though, was horrifying.

  Shane was on his back, pinned to the floor by two of the ghosts. The third, holding a wicked looking knife, stood over him.

  And then Leo was there. Leo launched himself forward, his face free of emotion as his left hand became a ball of pure red light. He struck the knife wielding soldier in the back, square between the shoulder blades and the man shuddered. The weapon vanished, the Japanese man screaming as Leo dragged him towards the chest.

  One of the other soldiers let go of Shane’s right hand to rush to the aid of his comrade, and Shane rolled. The knuckle-dusters glowed dully in the light and Shane smashed the dead man in the face, causing the soldier to disappear.

  Leo stood, one hand within a ghost while he faced the last soldier.

  “Come, Ichiru,” Leo said, nodding to the final ghost. “Come for Sato and let us be done with this.”

  Ichiru smiled, a broad, foul expression which filled Brian with fear as he looked upon them. His smile spoke of hate and a desire to inflict pain. It was sadistic and it reminded him of the King of Middlebury Sanitarium.

  Ichiru raised his hands, palms open to show he was unarmed, and then he attacked.

  The dead man was incredibly fast, yet Leo was faster, even with Sato hanging limply from his hand. Leo moved under a pair of quick punches from Ichiru and lashed out with his freehand, catching Ichiru in the chest and sending him stumbling back.

  Ichiru laughed coldly, and moved forward again. His next strike, a kick, landed. The whole Church shook as Leo took the full brunt of the blow in his stomach. Brian saw Leo’s eyes widen in shock and pain.

  “The box, Brian Roy!” Leo yelled, sidestepping a blow from Ichiru while Sato twisted on his hand and tried to reach Leo’s arm. “Please, open the box!”

  Brian suddenly was beside it, all six of the skulls just inches away. Ignoring the pain pounding through him, Brian snatched up the skulls and threw them into the chest. He didn’t wait for Leo to tell him to close it. Instead, he slammed the top down, and locked it.

  The noise vanished and Brian collapsed back onto the floor.

  “Well done,” Leo said, smiling softly. “Well done.”

  And Leo walked out of the room

  “Holy Jesus,” Shane whispered.

  Brian could only nod. Then, with more strength than he believed he still possessed, he pushed himself up. “Jim!”

  He twisted around and saw the teenager.

  Jim sat on the floor beside the body of Miles Cunningham.

  Jim had a piece of his shirt, and he wiped the handle of a letter opener carefully.

  “Suicide is a terrible thing,” Jim said softly. The polished brass opener was buried in Miles’s chest, just under the sternum.

  “Such a terrible thing,” Jim repeated. He picked up Miles’s right hand and wrapped it around the instrument’s handle. Jim looked at Brian.

  “Suicide is even worse when it’s done in a Church,” Jim said.

  The teenager stood up, looked from the body to the box and then to Brian and Shane. “I’d like to go get my grandfather now.”

  The boy left the room.

  Brian and Shane watched him go and listened to his footsteps on the stairs.

  “Damn,” Shane said after a moment.

  And Brian could only nod in agreement.

  Chapter 61: Saying Goodbye

  Brian stood off to one side of the road which ran through the Veterans’ Cemetery in Boscawen, New Hampshire. Jim had invited him and Shane to attend, and they had.

  Brian wiped tears out of the corners of his eyes as a bugler finished ‘Taps’.

  Shane patted Brian on the shoulder, and he saw Shane’s eyes welled with tears as well.

  “I’ll wait in the car,” Shane said, clearing his throat and brushing the tears away.

  Brian nodded and looked back to the graveside.

  There was a decent crowd, as far as funerals went, and Brian waited patiently for his turn to offer his condolences to both Jim and the boy’s mother.
r />   ‘Boy’ doesn’t quite cut it now, Brian thought.

  If anything, Jim was a young man; one who had witnessed his grandfather’s death and had his revenge on the man who had set the death into motion.

  Mourners passed by and Brian watched as Lisa, hardly recognizable outside of the Riverwalk, gave Jim a not-so-chaste kiss on the lips before she walked away. Finally, when the crowd had thinned and Jim and his mother where relatively alone, Brian approached.

  Both the young man’s eyes and his mother’s were red. She held a folded American flag to her chest and looked down at the silver casket in the grave.

  She turned at his approach and offered him a small, weary smile.

  “Mr. Roy,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”

  “You’re welcome,” Brian said.

  “I can’t thank you enough for helping bring my father to the hospital,” she said. “Even if it was too late.”

  “I’m just sorry I had left them with the car,” Brian said, the lie sticking in his throat. “If I had thought your father would have a heart attack, I never would have brought them with me.”

  She smiled sadly and shook her head. “Please don’t worry about it, Mr. Roy. My father loved to talk about the town, and about history. I’m just pleased he was with Jim when he passed.”

  Jim dropped his chin to his chest and remained silent.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Roy,” Jim’s mother said, “but I have to see the new Reverend about meeting at the Elks Lodge for dinner with the others.”

  “Of course,” Brian said. He stood beside Jim as she hurried away to catch up with the Reverend.

  After a moment, Brian asked Jim, “How is he?”

  “Who?” Jim asked, looking up, his eyes swollen and bright red.

  “The new Reverend,” Brian said, nodding towards the man and Jim’s mother.

  Jim shrugged. “He’s no Rev.”

  “Understood,” Brian said. “So, what’s next for you?”

  “School,” Jim said. “Hang out with Lisa and my friends. Maybe get a job. Maybe not. Depends on how much mom is going to need me.”

  “Well,” Brian said. “I think she’ll need you a lot. Don’t go looking for a job yet.”